One Life To Live

My back was glued to the leather seat behind me. My body was taut, my mind trying to wrap itself around the reality of what just happened. The once comfortable, soothing hum of the Lance’s Cadillac engine was now unfamiliar, and alien-like. The sight of Lance sitting beside me now held an air of unsettled feelings amid the intense confusion I was feeling.

Lance hadn’t said a word since we had taken off – both of his hands were tightly gripped around his steering wheel and his eyes were fixed on the road ahead of him. He taped his fingers hastily as if he were trying desperately to get something out. He finally spoke in a tormented voice, “I didn’t want you to find out this way, Melanie.”

“When were you even planning on telling me you’re a killer, Lance?” My fearful, deranged voice that was present at the house now resembled a bitter, broken, and angry quality.

He cringed, “We don’t kill people all the time.”

“Oh, you don’t murder people every day, just some days.” I couldn’t believe this.

“Melanie, you have to understand. This is my life. Generations of Capra’s have worked this circuit. I had no choice.” He tried to explain.

“Everyone has a choice, Lance. If you were so strongly against it, you’d quit – get out of it.”

He shook his head. “Be an outcast within my own family? I was brought up this way. You know Paulie. He’s in the same boat I am. We all are.”

Paulie. The flirty, funny, outgoing Paulie was a mass murderer too. I wonder if Kat knew this. If she was fine with it – if she loved Paulie the same way after finding out about it. If it was just an occupation, something he did on the side to make money. If they went on dates normally, acted like any other couple.

I sat there in silence. My mind thought back to when Lance had first dropped me off at the University after our first date at Vincent’s. I was on cloud nine – I had remembered that my immediate reaction was that this was the kind of guy I’d always wanted. A sweet, charming, handsome man that I found every excuse to call up. The way he treated me and kissed me…I thought life couldn’t get better than that. Looking back, even though we were only together for a total of two months….I knew I was falling hard.

Now, gazing at him from my passenger seat, I felt overwhelmed with emotion. My throat constricted and burned as I tried to fight the inevitable tears that I knew were threatening to burst out. All I wanted to do was rewind this whole night and act like it never happened. That I didn’t find out Lance was in the Mafia and killed people. It felt like God was playing a cruel trick on me. The one man I had confided in, shared a deep, passionate connection with, and lived to be with was being ripped away from me by this –this sick, crude joke.

I turned my head towards the window, and let the tears stream down my face. My breathing short, and shallow. I closed my eyes, hoping and wishing too many things. I heard Lance’s voice just then.

“Oh Melanie.” He reached over, and took a hold of my hand. My response was stiff, and I wanted to pull away, but I couldn’t find myself doing it. “Sweetheart, I know this is tough to grasp-”

I interrupted him as I cried, “I thought you were-” My voice broke off. I was in too much pain to say the words. I shook my head, dragged my fingers under my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Thought I was what?” Lance asked softly.

I took a few deep breaths before admitting, “I thought you were….you were the one for me, Lance. I was….I was….” I cleared my voice, “falling for you.”

His fingers tightened on my hand. “Melanie. I’m-I…” He seemed at a loss for words as well, but he forced himself to say it. “I’m falling in love with you. I know that.” His words tore at my soul. They made the tears flow more rapidly down my face.

Lance continued, “I love you, Melanie.” He spoke with a more confidence voice. “I’m in love with you, Mel. Please…” He trailed off.

We rounded the corner of the University, and I released my hand from his. “I can’t, Lance….I can’t deal with this.”

How could I be strong enough to even think about being with him, now? How could I have the mental strength of knowing now that he’s risking his own life in the career he does as well as others? I couldn’t. I knew that.

“Mel, I need you,” his voice was begging.

I shook my head. “I-I’m sorry, Lance. I just…I can’t even begin to think about you getting yourself killed.”

I permitted myself one last gaze at him. The devastatingly beautiful face, the wavy midnight hair that my fingers had run through many times over, the tense muscles that made up his chest, shoulders….and at last the deep green eyes that I wanted to drown myself in - to consume myself with. They were now agonized, and fearful of what I would do next. He leaned forward as if to yank me back in the car and speed away. I pushed against the unlocked door, and finally said, “I can’t Lance. We...we have to break up.”

With that, I jumped out, slamming the door of the car and strode toward the dorm doors – tears streaming down my face as I tried to find the will to walk away. Away from him.

The man I loved.